


second best

by cakecakecake



Series: teeter dance [3]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Aging, Angst, Dating, Getting Together, Growing Up, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Loneliness, Mutual Pining, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakecakecake/pseuds/cakecakecake
Summary: hop and gloria try to move on. it doesn't work.
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Hop, Hop/Yuuri | Gloria, Mary | Marnie/Yuuri | Gloria
Series: teeter dance [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808371
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. (not) a date

**Author's Note:**

> all pieces featured take place before **say so** \-- hop and gloria's experiences in relationships before they get together.

It’s not a date.

If only her mother would stop asking if it was.

Her nails aren’t quite dry yet, but she thumbs through the closet anyway. Looking for something casual to wear, something pink. Not red, not black, not too short. Something that goes with her loafers. Casual, comfortable. She settles on a frilly, yellow thing she hasn’t worn in years. It fits a little tight around her chest, now, but that’s okay. It won’t be weird if she has to undo a button or four. It’s not like she’ll be looking -- it’s just Marnie.

It’s just Marnie, but it takes her almost an hour to get ready. Just to make sure she’s not overdoing it, because it’s not a date. No lip gloss, no ribbons in her hair. The dress isn’t too short, and her hair isn’t too perfect. A few stray pieces frame her face.

It’s just Marnie and it’s just dinner. They’re having a picnic at the lakefront. It’s sunny and warm in East Lake Axewell today, and Morpeko and Mimikyu can play while they cook. She’s got a recipe for a new cheese curry that she wants to try. Marnie likes cheese. 

Marnie doesn’t like her, though, not like that. They’re just friends. They’re friends and this is not a date, because Marnie didn’t say it was and neither did she. She just asked her if she’d like to have a picnic, and when Gloria asked if Hop could come along, she gave her some roundabout way of saying no. She'd rather it be just the two of them. That doesn’t mean it’s a date. 

Right?

They hardly get to see each other on their own, so it makes sense that she’d just want girl-time. That’s all it is. Girl-Time with Marnie. 

It’s not a date.


	2. torment

They sleep together again. 

Hop takes it. It’s a wordless agreement -- Bede won’t say it, but he won’t have it otherwise. Hop is fine with that. He’s thankful just to feel something, anything that isn’t missing her. Bede’s got his own reasons for it anyway. Hop doesn’t think he should ask about them. He doesn’t think he wants to know. 

It’s the first time they’ve done this in one of their homes. Before, it had always been in an inn, or somewhere they both could quickly escape from. There's no reason why tonight is different, it just is. Hop offered his flat, but Bede declined, and he really thought that was that, until Bede insisted upon going back to Opal's. She’s not home, of course -- tea with the ladies -- and Hop had already been in Ballonlea collecting data. They bicker the whole way there and stuff it the moment they walk into his bedroom.

It’s harsh and rushed, like always. Bede is anything but gentle. From behind, so Hop can’t see his face. (He doesn’t have to see him to know that he cries.) His teeth and nails rake across his back, a conduction of an orchestral arrangement of misery and heartache. Pillows muffle the symphony of cries and groans. The mattress creaks horribly beneath them. Bede lights a cigarette when it’s over.

Hop stares at the ceiling. Stares around the room. There’s a stuffiness to it that sets him ill at ease. The windows are sealed shut, ruffled curtains drawn. The retro-deco floral wallpaper is chipping, revealing the aged eggshell-white paint underneath. He wonders how long ago it must have been set. He wonders how much time Bede actually spends in here. 

He sits up, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Facing away from Bede. Grateful for the smell of smoke -- covers up the perfume. It’s the same brand Gloria wears. He wonders if he does it on purpose. 

His eyes fall upon a wrinkled old button-down hanging from the nook on the wardrobe. It looks like it hasn’t been washed in years. There’s a pink lipstick stain on the collar. Another thing he won’t ask about. He probably doesn’t have to.

“Are you happy?” 

Hop turns to watch him puff out a ring of smoke. He breathes out a hollow laugh, stretching to reach the ashtray on the nightstand. He flicks the cigarette. 

“What am I saying. Of course you aren’t.”

Hop smiles carefully, ironically. “Why else would we do this.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. Can’t have you falling in love with me.”

“‘Course not,” Hop agrees. “We’re here because we both love someone else.”

“Someone who doesn’t want either of us,” Bede says, and Hop flinches. Each word pricks at his heart like a pincushion. He’s right, but he shouldn’t say it. 

“Does it help?” he asks. Trying to divert the conversation, just a little. Bede never talks this much afterward. It’s unsettling. Any relief he’d gotten from the sex has already melted away.

“I don’t know,” is his dry reply. He takes another drag. Blows it out slowly. “I’m not sure it ever did.”

That should make him upset, but it doesn’t. Instead he just smirks. Hop lays down again, a careful measure of space between them. Eyes trained on the peeling wallpaper. The silence is a knowing, comfortable silence. Bede is easier to understand now -- or maybe it’s just that he’s let go of his pride enough to make it so. Maybe. 

Hop sighs. “Why do we do this, Bede?”

A beat of quiet, and then Bede laughs again.

“To torment each other.”


End file.
